Whole Nevermore
by SAmaster01
Summary: Many great and terrible breeds of Grimm exist on Remnant. Hunters throughout time must confront them as they arise. This is one such tale of how a man met a monster, and eventually came to slay it.


"Greetings class!" Proffessor Port bellowed with his usual gusto and enthusiasm. "I hope you are all as excited for today's lesson as I am!" The collective groan and apathy of his students was lost on him. "Today we dive into the history of Grimm, and how our society throughout the ages has discovered and dealt with them. For the purposes of our lesson, I have asked for the assistance of Beacons History Teacher: Dr. Oobleck!"

The good Doctor immediately entered the room like a great gale, and wasted no time with launching into his part of the lesson.

"Good Morning Class, I am Dr. Bartholomew Oobleck, I teach several History Classes here at this fair center of learning, I am happy to recognize many faces from my own classes, but to those who have not had the pleasure to have being at the receiving end of one of my lectures, rejoice for this is your lucky day, once again I am Dr. Bartholomew Oobleck, and for those who are interested, I teach History 101, History 102, History 103, History of Vale, History of the Kingdoms, Political History, and History of the Great War." He said without breath.

"Thank you for that short introduction Dr. Oobleck." Professor Port said.

"Of course, of course, a pleasure as always Professor Port!"

"Now then, to begin with class, new Breeds of Grimm are constantly being discovered, but we shall start today by focusing on some of the more well-known and intimidating breeds of Grimm, and how they were first discovered, and the ramifications this had on careers of Hunter's everywhere." The Professor observed his students, who were still only paying half-attention. "Can anyone of you tell me what the conventions are for the designation of names for the various breed of Grimm?"

Most of the students moved to pretend that they were thinking. One hand shot up.

"Yes, Ms. Belladonna, you have the answer to give to the class?" Dr. Oobleck asked.

"If a new Grimm is discovered, the first Huntsman or Huntress to have a confirmed kill of the breed gets the right to name it. If the Huntsman or Huntress in question declines, or is otherwise incapable of naming the creature due to injuries, or death, then the honor goes to whoever next gets the kill. Oftentimes the nickname given between it's discovery and slaying is the one chosen for it." Blake Belladonna recited expertly.

"Excellent Ms. Belladonna completely right!" Professor Port stated.

"However the first story that we shall be reciting to your eager young minds shall be an exception!" Dr. Oobleck stated. "As Ms. Belladonna stated, most often the nickname a Grimm earns becomes its official name upon its first confirmed slaying, there are several exceptions that have occurred throughout history, each with their own story related, can anyone give me an example of such a Grimm?"

Absolutely no hands came up amongst the students this time.

"Well then, if nobody knows, I suppose it best we start teaching then!" Professor Port said, ambling to his chalkboard to pull down an anatomical illustration. "The first horrendous creature we shall be discussing shall be the Nevermore!"

"With it's propensity to grow to great sizes, it's thick armor of feathers, and it's tendency for aerial attacks, this creature proved to be a thorn in the side of cities and villages for decades, and the death of many poor souls." Dr. Oobleck informed them.

"Quite right Dr. Oobleck!" Proffessor Port boomed with approval. "I'm sure all of you remember when we covered this monster previously. But today we shall cover it's history on our society, and how society has adapted to combat it!"

"Firstly, are there any among you who can tell the rest of the class the name of the Hunter who first encountered and slew these great creatures?" Oobleck inquired.

A single hand rose this time, in the same spot it had previously. "Come now Ms. Belladonna-" Proffessor Port scoffed. "Please let your classmates have a chance to answer the questions." Blake Belladonna lowered her hand, a few seats over her teammate hesitantly raised hers. "Ms. Schnee, do you have the answer?"

"Allen E. Polter." The heiress answered primly. "More than a century ago."

"Quite right!" Port applauded. "He was a Huntsman of this very Academy, who discovered this Grimm far into the wastes. Be forewarned class, for this is a dark, and saddening tale that shall be told."

* * *

Fog. Fog, fog, and more fog. It was a wonder he could even see his partner, hiking up the damp rocky mountain path, but there she was, resting on the crest of the path looking over the obscured landscape. Lenore aPaean.

"Hurry dear Allen!" Lenore beckoned, framed by sunlight as the wondrous body was likewise cresting the mountain peak.

"Of course, of course Lenore!" He said, trying not to slide on the sharp slippery stones. Allen E. Polter joined his partner, and the two observed the landscape before them, nothing but shades of gray, thick outlines of jagged mountains soft outlines of migrating clouds, sheets of mist striking themselves against the rock. A great unknown.

"Here lies our quarry dear Allen." Lenore stated resting her spear on a nearby rock.

"Where the trade convoy went missing?" Allen asked taking a rest, pulling out some papers with the necessary information, checking his stopwatch to see that they were along schedule.

"Exactly." Lenore affirmed with a smile, before looking back out to the rocky valley. "Such a dangerous task. So many brave souls ended." She smiled a bit more. "But that is not for us to worry is it dear Allen?"

"No, ours is to worry about the Grimm." Allen said, returning her smile as brightly as he could. "The survivors described a Grimm that doesn't match anything in the archives." He said upon reviewing his notes. "Perhaps this is a new breed of Grimm never before encountered? Wouldn't that be exciting?"

"Quite!" Lenore said with some mirth. "Then you would have your name in those books you so adore, sung in classes for generations."

"We could both name it." Allen suggested. "After all you're better with words than I am."

"That's quite a reversal dear Allen!" Lenore said. "For normally we compete for who is the best at wordcraft. Even now I must hand this honor to you dear Allen, out of all our peers after all, it is you who spends so much time reading and writing."

"Well, that may be true-" Allen said, putting his notes away. "However-"

Lenore raised her hand, silencing him. "Now now, dear Allen, let us not fight over things that may never come to pass."

Allen sighed. "I suppose that is the best course. We shall take things as they come then?"

"As always dear Allen." Lenore stated. She picked her weapon back up and gazed resolutely at the horizon. "We should be off."

"Oh?" Allen noted reluctantly. "But we just stopped. I was hoping we could stop for our rations, and perhaps some pleasant chatter. To commemorate our first official mission together. Just the two of us." He tried to persuade her, stall her.

"Oh, that would be a joy as always dear Allen." Lenore said still with a smile. "For I do so enjoy our chats, and those little sandwiches you make with such deftness. However we must be off, for the sun is low, this fog offers us little visibility, and that shall only hamper us further with time. There is an abandoned Fort yonder, the one your notes speak of, yes?" Lenore said, pointing at an obscured peak in the distance. "We should make for the fort and make camp, renewing our efforts in the morn."

"Oh." Allen muttered glumly. He rose to his feet, putting away his things back in his pack and tucking his stopwatch in his breast pocket as Lenore started her hike anew. Allen breathed a moment. "Lenore wait!"

"Yes dear Allen?" Lenore asked, turning her smile back on him.

Mustering up more courage than he ever had to in his career as a Hunter, Allen began to go through some well-rehearsed lines.

"Maybe this isn't the best time." Allen admitted. "But there was something that I promised myself during our schooling together." Back when he was lost and Lenore found him.

"And this seems like a good enough time and place as any." Allen had once made a promise to himself that he vowed to keep the day he and Lenore went on their first mission.

Allen reached into his coat pocket, and lowered onto his knee. "Lenore aPaean, you have been my dearest friend from the day we met." She had taken him under her wing, helped him stand on his two feet once more.

"I don't know quite when, but I have been in love with you for the longest time." Acts great and small over the years of knowing her.

"Your presence has made me a better person, I do not know what kind of man I would be without your presence." It was a shudder to think from how far he had brought himself, inching ever closer to Lenore.

And now for the words that shuddered his soul as they came out of his mouth. "Would you do me the honor of becoming my bride?"

Lenore stood there unmoving, the only sounds were the gusts of wind that blew her hair and clothes. Her lips faltered slightly before forming a keen smile. "No."

* * *

The trudging walk into the valley and through the moors continued in damnable silence. Both of the Hunters had their hands on their weapons, readying themselves for any ambush that might catch them unawares. The sun had fallen below the mountains, casting a great shadow over Allen and the entire valley. Lenore didn't waver though, the fort could still be seen, looming closer with each step.

With torches in hand though they ambled forwards, beams of light being reflected back by banks of fog, walls of mist smashing against them, their boots slipping in the mud, and monstrous howls they ignored as they soldiered on. Not a word was exchanged between them. The silence between them was deafening and thick.

The only sound was the howling wind above the peaks, the damp sounds of the moors, and the howl and croaks of the things that inhabited it.

The sounds began to haunt them however. What was heard, what wasn't. A deep croaking. A flapping of great wings. The snapping of trees, and the rustling of water. Sounds that they knew but could not quite place, seemingly hounding them as they kept going. Shapes moving in the mist. The feeling of horrid bloodthirst focused on them. Keeping them on their guard. An uncrossable divide now gaping between them.

For hours they walked on, the mud covering them, the mist soaking them, their hands on their weapons, and wary of all directions, inching towards to the fort that slowly loomed closer. The weight on their minds and hearts threatened to choke them.

Occasionally they found signs of the beast. Claw marks against trees and stones as wide as their arms reach. Black rigid feathers as long as they were tall. The bones and carcasses of animals unfortunate to occur its wrath. A low ominous foreboding murmuring croaking. But further they went into the gloom heedless.

Lenore held out her weapon to block Allens progress. She stared out into the mists. "Wait." She said.

A great Beast announced itself with a horrendous shriek appearing before them from the mists with great black wings and a bone-white mask.

Neither of the Hunters hesitated, drawing their weapons and firing, Lenores Elephant Gun went off with a mighty crack, and Allen's ringed out with each shot of his pistol. With a cacophonous caw it banished the mist around them with it's great wings, and dived for them.

Both Allen and Lenore fell to the mud as it soared inches away from them and back out far into the Valley. They rose slowly and saw its shape obscure through the mist. "It appears we have found our quarry Dear Allen." Lenore stated.

"I've never seen anything like it!" Allen said wiping the mud off his brow. "That thing is enormous. We severely underestimated!"

"Do not lose hope dear Allen." Lenore heeded. "Never lose hope! The Grimm lies between us and from whence we came. Our task now is to continue on to our destination, hold out in that bastion of safety, and coordinate our plans from there."

"…Whatever you say Lenore." Allen said.

"We must keep our weapons in hand dear Allen." Lenore stated. "That beast shall return but when we do not know."

Allen nodded and they continued through the moor with greater haste, heading to the Fort atop the cliff face, reloading their weapons as they went, with the calls of the beast beckoning at them. They climbed and clambered upwards, their destination glinting with the last of the sunlight like a beacon. And onward desperately they sped towards it.

The monster came back, strafing at them as they climbed. Lenore helped Allen back onto some firm footing, and fired back at the beast with her weapon. "We are too exposed dear Allen!"

"I can tell!" Allen said firing upon the great avian with little effect. His rounds seemed to bounce off of the creatures' armored feathers. At least the monster recoiled with each shot of Lenore's rifle. Lenore took his hand as the winged beast crested back over the peaks.

They trekked up the rocky path, hounded by the monster every few minutes. Each time the two were grateful to drive it off for the time being. Finally a clear path to the Fort revealed itself to them in the last light that made it's way past the mountain peaks to shine on them, showing them the way to safety, and warming their chilled bodies.

"Our goal is in sight dear Allen!" Lenore said with a wondrous smile. "We can take sanctuary there in Fort Pallas from this dreadful gale."

The horrendous caw of the Grimm sounded once more as it clambered over the rocks above them.

"If we can make it that is!" Allen said.

Lenore looked the creature in the eye from its perch, and steeled herself. "Allan, I need you to distract the beast while get close to it. I might not kill it, but I can at least drive it off long enough for us to take shelter."

"Lenore-"

"Don't argue!" Lenore cried, and like that she was off. She clambered up deftly, firing her Elephant Gun for added momentum up to the top of the cliff peak where she stood with unsure footing. She took aim with her rifle at the great black bird as it flew around, firing a shot right at it's head gaining it's attention.

With another caw it launched itself strait for Lenore, but was swarmed by a great many flock of birds streaming up at it, an illusion conjured by Allen's semblance, Lenore launched herself from the cliff and onto the monster, holding on for dear life at the things black feathers that coated its vast body.

The beast shook itself to dislodge her, but Allen played the role of a distraction well, making appear illusions of artillery fire with great light and sound keeping the Grimm on a steady course with his Semblance

Climbing and clambering up the Grimm's neck, Lenore found a crack on its mask made of Bone. Taking aim with one arm, once more with her rifle at point blank, she fired a single blast, causing the monster to shriek with great pain, the mask shattered on it's left side and the Grimm lost it's ability for flight. Lenore deftly leapt off from the monster, and landed once more onto her perch on the cliff peak.

"Lenore!" Allen cried from below.

Lenore looked down on him, framed by the last of the sunlight. She smiled triumphantly and with great warmth down upon him, the goal she set upon herself accomplished, and her partner safe.

Then within a moment, the great monster arose from behind the cliff, as if resurrected. Lenore turned to gaze upon its red eyes, and with a great flap, a hail of feathers with tips like stakes bore down upon them.

She felt only pain, searing pain enter and emanate from her core throughout her body, as a foreign entity born of her quarry's body entered her, and protruded out of her, removing the agency of her body painfully paralyzing her as blood and body bits coated it's tip that stuck out from her that she could only behold for a second before she tipped over and fell in the span of only a second.

Below Lenore only saw Allens horrified visage, as he unfolded handle of his weapon back into a long-shield, much the shape of a feather itself, and he guarded himself from the barrage. The pain now surging through Lenore's body, into each nerve of her body and from there to the back of her skull, her now impaled body descended through the air and smashed itself against the resolute stone of the cliffs, tumbling over and over, the last of her aura draining, her body bruising and breaking with each turn gravity spun her, until finally with much too suddenness her brutal descent ceased upon the ledge, in a quick and violent stop.

Allen made a mad sprint to where she fell, broken and bleeding, turning her over to cradle her fallen form, distraught that such a great women as she had been beaten so.

Lenore looked up at him to see him distraught. "Dear… Allen…" She croaked. Her body was twisted so, riddled with feathers, great gashes bled every which way, yet still she smiled when she looked up at him.

"Lenore…" He breathed, robbed of words.

Her gaze turned above him to where she had fallen from such great heights. "The beast- is not yet slain." She told him, doubtless with pain.

"You can't…" Allen said, his mind refusing to comprehend the awful sight before him.

"It is not up to you or I." Lenore told him gently.

A great many tears came to Allens face unbidden, gushing forth a miserable torrent. "Lenore… why did you say no?"

Lenore kept her beaming smile at him. "Because dear Allen. This… is the life- that you and I lead. My time has come… without my heeding. I did not know that today would be my last… but I knew that it could be… how would you have felt… finally having me, and then… having me plucked from your grasp?" She asked weakly. "As I am… I was never within your reach."

"Lenore… you can't…"

"I treasured our time together dear Allen." Lenore told him. "Truly moments spent with you are what made life worth living. I look back on my life… and I can leave my life knowing it was a good one. I can die now unafraid."

"…What will I do without you? Lenore you gave my life meaning…" He wailed.

"Live Allen." Lenore told him with a sincere smile. "Live for me. Live for all the fallen. Live a good life."

The two partners stayed like that for a short while longer, a moment forever immortalized for the two of them.

"Now Allen." Lenore said to him. "Take my rifle. The beast- returns."

Allen turned his gaze upwards to see the Grimm perched at the top of the cliff, it's red eyes boring into their souls, the left side of it's head bleeding darkness into the aether.

"Go."

Heeding her word, Allen slung Lenore's rifle over his shoulder, and made a mad dash to the fort, refusing to look back, the tears still streaming from his eyes. The monstrous bird flew overhead, it's caw hounding him. Still having some wits about him he conjured more illusions of himself as he ran towards the bridge.

The monster flapped its great winds again piercing the illusions with its black feathers, but Allen had already reached the bridge. Refusing to be denied it's kill, it rammed straight into the stonework. Allen slammed against the doors of Fort Pallas as the bridge connecting the structure atop its place on the rocky outcrop was smashed the debris smattering like stone gore and viscera upon its edifice, leaving it a lonely island in the sky.

He only spared a moment for a backwards glance as the structure of stone crumbled atop the monster. Allen then flung open the doors to the sanctuary, and hurled himself inside, and threw himself on the doors, bolting them shut and slowly edging inside.

Despair clutched at his heart as he likewise clutched at his distraught face, his footsteps echoing against the entrance and against his skull. Only the monster beating and cawing at the gate brought him back from the edge. Slinging Lenore's weapon over his shoulder, he retreated further into Fort Pallas.

* * *

Dead.

Lenore, a vision of life itself, was dead.

Dead.

Cut down, at the height of her power.

Dead.

No longer here to accompany him, to keep him strong.

Dead.

Down and down he went, into the depths. His grip was loose as he ventured fourth, the last of the light gone.

A torch in hand, only lonely sounds echoed through the halls join him. His footsteps against the stonework. The howling winds beating against the fort. The determined monster doing likewise.

Dead.

She was dead. Lenore, who had propped Allen back on his feet, helped him, lead him, accompanied him, gave him purpose. It had all been her.

Dead.

Shadows swirled at the edges of his vision that his torch failed to banish. Somewhere in his depths was a drive to go forth. There was a mission to complete, a monster to slay. The structure he was housed in had sheltered many, and had withstood much more than he could ever hope to, perhaps hidden in it were answers.

Dead.

Perhaps. Just perhaps. Almost assuredly perhaps.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

* * *

Allen found the Trade Convoy. What they once where, and what they were now.

Remains were strewn across the floor at the lowest depths. Their dead and dying eyes stared into darkness as darkness stared back. There was no salvation, no sanctuary, no safety that had been found here and no solace amongst the corpses. No answers, aside from the greatest truths humanity shunned. Rusting blood dyed the walls as the winds in the Fort howled after him, wrapping it's way into his coat and embracing him with its icy grip.

More and more weight simultaneous flowed onto his shoulders and back off down his back like a dreadful stream. Dust shook from the ceiling as the beast that hounded him pounded the Fort.

His legs trembled until he took a step, and another. And another, aimlessly after another.

Beside his heart thrummed the ticking of his stopwatch as he came to the midnight hour. In the heart of the Fort was the Library. Full of rotting knowledge, words and letters littering the floor, now devoid of their context, jumbled and incomprehensible. Pale moonlight filtered into the room, illuminating the decay, and the atrophy.

Nothing. Nothing here to be found. Nothing to be gained. Nothing to be learned. Nothing.

Allen heard a knocking, a subtle knocking, a tapping, a rapping, a smattering behind him as his clock near his heart stopped. It came again more insistently, and the ticking by his heart resumed. With haste unbecoming of his newfound sluggishness he came to the door as it knocked and knocked and knocked increasingly desperate.

He flung open the door to find nothing but shadows laughing at him. More sounds, besides the wind and his own breathing, haunted him further down the hall. He treaded down it, drapes flapping gaily over their open windows onwards and onwards. Outside the monster that haunted him glided past.

Pearls of laughter echoed, bubbling giggles and hearty chuckles, growing more and more incessant. Desperately, desperately he chased after the sounds, his thoughts paralyzed by his need for action. Perhaps he was no longer alone once more, perhaps his light had not been stolen from him.

"Who is there!" Allen cried as his pace threatened to outrun him. "Tell me who is there!"

He burst through at the end of the corridor into a great Hall, empty, devoid, hollow, and crumbling, it was the soulless wind that greeted him, the wind howling and screeching back, the wind mocking him. No laughter would be found here. No-one was there. No-one to stand by him. No-one hold him up, to reassure him. No-one to justify his existence.

No-one.

No-one.

No-one.

* * *

Howling back in rage, furious at the all the weight he bore, of all the loneliness and despair, of all that tormented him he fired Lenore's rifle above him with a mighty crack, banishing all around him, shattering the fresco above him, showering him with it's dust, earning him a moments respite as he seethed silently.

The terrible beast struck at the Fort, breaking the defenses that had held it for so long, the ceiling broke at last unable to whether any assault on it whatsoever, it's face, with glowing devilish eyes and still bleeding darkness, looked at him hungrily with eyes filled with Cold Malice, chirping and cooing as it crawled in slowly and with purpose.

"No…" Allen choked out. "No you will not have me!" He roared, firing his own pistol, ringing out, causing the monster to flinch as he paced back. The monster surged with a speed it was hiding and Allen ran back out into the halls, running with one step after another weapons in hand away, further away as monsters chased him.

* * *

Why?

Why did the beast hound him?

Why?

Why were such monsters allowed in this world?

Why?

Why had man sinned so that he was cursed to live such a wretched existence?

Why?

Why were the good and the strong slaughtered as equals to the wicked and the weak?

Why?

Why must those who survive carry on with the burdens of the dead?

Why?

* * *

The monster nameless, pursed Allen as he hid in darkness, in this Forsaken Forts blackened corridors, covering himself with it, losing himself to it. It was all he could do, for he lacked the strength to fight, lacked the strength to win. The walls around him had failed, just as surely as Allen would.

Just as assuredly as he would anything else.

Just as he had with the rest of his life.

If only Lenore where here, his lost Lenore. It was only due to Lenore that he had accomplished anything. But now she was gone, dead and gone.

"No…"

Yes, just as dead as his poor mother, as his poor sister, both of them taken from him because he was a failure.

"No, that's not it."

Isn't it? Allen was weak.

"My mother was sick!"

And yet vainly he tried to cure her, looking for doctors and medicine that would heal her, and failed.

"That wasn't my fault!"

Just as much as when his sister, who Allen had then been charged with such a sacred life, to hold, to protect, to nurture. And yet he neglected his duties, left her to her own devices so she could be found dead, dead, dead, washed away in an alley, her stockings ripped, her frock torn.

"She was taken from me!"

Because you failed to hold on. Because you rid yourself of her.

"That's not true!"

If she was taken from you, why not take her back? Find those responsible, make them face all those virtues you claim to hold so dear?

"I have! I've tried! I've looked, and searched! I still- even now I-"

Now you hide, whimpering and afraid. Cowed by a monster searching to squelch your cowering once and for all.

"I can't… I can't! I became stronger! I fought, I suffered!"

Strong you say? What strength? What good have you done? What demons have you slain? If you were strong would you be here? Afraid? Alone? What of Lenore?

"Lenore, no, she's-"

Lenore is dead Allen.

"No! No!"

Yes. Yes. Dead Allen. Dead and Gone Allen. Bruised and Battered Allen. Broken and Beaten Allen. Bashed and Bloody Allen, Gashed and Gored Allen. Slashed and Stuck Allen. Speared and Spattered Allen. Fine and Finished Allen.

"Why!? Why do you torment me so!"

Why Allen? Why do you torment yourself so? For a man as broken as you, you are infested with the disease of hope. For as long as you totter on, you will subject yourself to more and more of life and all it's pains.

"This, this cannot be my fate! Why? Why should I be subjected to this!? Lenore, she helped me, she was my light! Why would I be given a glimpse in her fair radiance, bask in the warmth of her companionship if she was meant to be eclipsed so?"

Because mortals are fates favorite playthings. Lenore was a fool.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare-!"

But she was. Full of hope. Full of ideals. Full of more strength than you could hope to possess. But still here we are, with you surviving her here in the depths of darkness. Oh how you despair at the untimely plucking of her from your life. But delusions are all you could ever aspire to hold, and all you have now.

"No! Silence! Silence I say!"

And silence it was.

* * *

The beast now passed Allen emerged once again from the shadows, his grip still loose and shaky, wandering the halls once more, wary of the monster that wandered likewise, seeking to diverge his path from its.

Steps he scaled upwards, to floors above, into an atrium, with it's ceiling of glass peering into the night sky fractured, shattered, broken and battered. But the enemy was within, and not without, so it mattered little.

Allen was haunted by sounds more here. Steps not his, murmuring not his, presences not his. Fleeting shadows swirled, and skipped, and scampered towards and away from his being, the dimming of his torch doing little to dispel them.

"Away all! If a soul other than mine is here, reveal thyself!" Allen cried, his pistol in hand.

The shadows ceased at that as Allen treaded forward.

"You let her die Allen." A voice said.

Allen whirled to see his tow teammates, side-by-side wearing somber faces, their eyes downcast to him.

"No I didn't, I swear this to be true!" Allen told them.

"You let her die Allen." His companion repeated.

"Dead and Gone Allen." Said the other.

"Killed and Crushed Allen."

"Done and Damned Allen."

"No! It was the beast! The beast that killed her!"

"And what of you Allen?" Asked his two teammates in unison. "Why didn't you stop her, why didn't you save her?"

"I tried!" Allen despaired.

"You left her Allen." Spoke the first.

"You could have saved her Allen." Spoke the second.

"She bade me to leave!" Allen said. "I had to! I had to!"

"Better your life than hers!" The spoke as one.

"No! No! If I could trade my life for hers, I would do so as fast as I could!"

"But you can't Allen." They spoke.

"I know! I know!" He anguished, cradling his head as he stood there in desperation.

When he gained the courage to look once more they had vanished. The glass crackled underneath his feet as he made step after step further more.

"You are a failure!" Stormed a voice aimed at him. Allen turned again to see his teacher, standing with a scowl aimed at him, as furious as he had always remembered her, robbing him of his words. "A failure of a student, a failure of a man, and a failure of a life! What point is there in a creature such as you? What have you done with the tools I presented to you? Of the training, of the education I beat into your spirit? You have failed! Me, yourself, your team and your city! Of all those letters and tomes you wasted your life in, what good did that petty knowledge do you? What a waste…"

"No!" Allen said as his teacher walked away. "No your training was not in vain! It can't have been!" He rounded the corner and she was gone.

"Look at you. Look at how you have grown." Whirling around he faced the pale face of his departed mother.

"Mother…"

"What tragedy you have faced…" She said solemnly. "What horrors you have suffered."

"Mother please come back to me!" Allen cried chasing after her, only to find shadows. "All I want is to behold you a while longer!"

"She can't. None of us can." That voice chilled him to his very core. Slowly he turned to see his darling sister, her hair mussed, her face bruised, blood trickling over her. "None of us can."

"Why? Why sister? Why must I go through this torment!"

"Because you yet choose to live." His sister answered. "You can not come back. Not yet. Not as you are. You are trapped."

"No! Please tell me that it isn't so!"

She didn't answer him.

"Please give me the answers I seek! The answers I need! Something to end this torment! I beg of you!"

But silent she staid.

"At least answer me this, are these specters that haunt me, are they of my own doing?" A hitch in his heart where hope lay tugged tighter. "My own self-torture for my weakness, for my failings? Or are they perhaps something more? Evidence of a here-after that I have stumbled upon in this forsaken place?"

Her response was the same as the stone walls around him.

"What of her? Will I see her? Please, even if, even if I shall only suffer more, even if I will only be entreated by horrors, please, I need, I need-

His sister looked him in the eyes, and vanished. Allen collapsed on the floor of broken glass. "No! Please! Someone! Anyone! Give me something! Something that I can believe in!"

* * *

Live Allen. Live for me.

* * *

The monster, nameless still, stalked patiently the halls fallen so far from their glory, in patient pursuit of its prey, numb to the darkness bleeding from the left of its face, intent only on quelling its quarry.

As the thing turned a corner, it saw Allen standing on the far end, accompanied only be the dead.

Shaken yet resolute, aiming down the barrel of Lenores Elephant Gun down at the thing that haunted him. With a mighty boom that brought a brief clarity that echoed throughout Fort Pallas the bullet pierced the Grimm, but did little more than incur more malice on him.

With a great and throaty caw the beast barreled down the corridors, and Allen fled as the monster threw itself against the wall, refusing to slow down until it had killed the man who had dared call himself a hunter of it and its kind.

Allen shot blindly and madly with his pistol behind him, briefly illuminating the corridors with each gunshot, as he ran and ran, and shot and shot. He was agitating the monster more and more, heightening its bloodlust for him, egging it on into more and more of a heightening frenzy.

Shadows swirled around the two, hunter and prey, threatening to choke the both of them. Yet heedless they ran through the maze together, disentangling themselves from the wretched labyrinthine mess that was the Forts innards. Allen raced himself up a spiral staircase as the monster that sought to destroy him followed, squeezing itself through the ascending spiral, through the confines as quickly as the oppressive stone walls allowed it, while Allen pestered it with his gunpowder, a light staccato of his pistol, followed by a crescendo of his partners rifle.

Finally the beast emerged once more from its confines and into the open air. A Bell Tower, our dear Allen had chose to set the stage with a resigned and deadened look on his face. The nameless Grimm bore down its gaze full of malice upon him, moving slowly, deliberate, slowly, methodic, slowly, with purpose. The deafening shadows and murmuring and whispers and thoughts left unsaid and unthought were now ceased. Their chase was at an end.

No more running. No more hiding. No more doubts, no more shadows, or murmuring, or whispering, no more death, or damnation, no more losses or gains, no more illusions, lies, deceit, no more insufferable increments of insanity, or of the maddening mess of his mind. No more hope.

Just a man and his monster.

"Now-" Allen announced, his voice wavering and resolute, with both of his weapons in hand. "It is you, and I. Either you shall end me- or I shall end you." Now no longer with hope he looked back into the eyes of the monster that had long plagued him "Have at it."

With another dreadful murmuring caw, the Grimm stalked toward Allen, knocking the great bronze bell with it's feathered wing, sending it tottering and teetering, giving voice and rhythm to the air around them.

Allen waited until the beast was upon him, and bore down its might beak on him. Using Lenores spear, he caught its jaw, its strength bending his knee, until he took his pistol and emptied a clip down its gullet, causing it to sound in pain, firing the rifle to free himself.

Rolling out, he stepped out through the gateway that had the door rotted off it's hinges, and reloaded his weapons, waiting in the cool air that waited just before dawn in a small lookout that encompassed the Bell and its home. Cool calm still silence existed beside the beat of the bells dull ringing throughout Fort Pallas, throughout Allens soul and skull.

The Grimm stuck out its wing out the door, and with a mighty effort burst through the walls that contained it, covering itself in dust and rubble, the gore and viscera of Fort Pallas. The Bronze Bell still ringing sullenly behind it, ringing sullenly behind it, the nameless monster looked coldly and contemptuously down on Allen. It was challenging him on the small terrace, challenging Allen where he had so little ground to stand firmly on.

Allen fired the Elephant Gun at the monster, rolled to dodge the beast as it charged at him, and fired again, and again, and again, spryly dodging any attempts by the Grimm, and continuing his barrage. The avian demon reared up flapping its wing in another deadly feather barrage, which he swiftly protected himself from with his long-shield, the dark creature wasted no time in trying to gobble him up almost swallowing him whole, if not for catching it's beak once more on Allens weapon.

It reared up, taking Allen into its force, leaning on the Bell Tower turning it's gaze skyward, to let gravity doom Allen while he hung now precariously over his monsters bottomless gullet. But still the maddened man struggled, taking the Elephant Gun, and bringing it down the things throat once more, firing again and again and again until he shaken loose, and thrown callously back onto the terrace. He swiftly returned to his feet, ignorant and deaf to the aching pains of his body.

Hacking and coughing, Allen seized his opportunity. He ran to his foe, using the Elephant Gun to propel him up and over the avians head, hooking it with the gun strap, knocking it enough off balance that Alan landed on the other side, knocking the Grimm off on its back in doing so. The beast flailed wildly while Allen bore the barrel of the rifle against his chest. He took his pistol and blindly aimed it at the barren side of the monsters face, firing again and again and again, and again, and again, and again until he blinded it. Now in such agony, the monster flailed itself out of Allens grip, and crawled itself over the side of the terrace and spread its wings back into the sky, Lenores rifle still hung around its neck like a necrose trophy.

Allen took aim with his pistol, running light, dangerously light on ammunition, Allen popped off enough rounds to keep this foes attention. Seeing it change course back to come at him, Allen slowly stepped back, and turned to face the tower. Quickly he clambered the rubble, the gore and viscera of Fort Pallas, until he found himself on a ledge with his back facing stone, and his front facing the air.

A caw erupted from the monsters broken and tormented face, aiming its beak and the entirety of its body at Allens heart, only to discover it an illusion slam itself straight into the tower, breaking its head through the stone, and setting off the bronze bell, setting off the bronze bell below off once more with greater fervor.

Allen climbed up the beasts neck, higher still until he had clambered atop the towers domed rooftop, the highest point of the entire valley, beside a flagpole that still held a banner long since forgotten.

The monster released itself from its self made prison, and clutched to the tower looking up at its foe, tired of its gambles and tricks. It slowly, methodically, slowly, deliberately, slowly, purposefully, slowly, rose to meet him, its breath ragged and tired. Allen looked back into its gaze without hope, determination, or desperation, only resignation, clutching onto his weapon firmly.

Waiting for the other to finish staring into the others void, the Grimm struck first, striking an open beak with the intent of ending Allens life in a single swallow, intent on ending Allens life, intent on ending his life.

Allen fell back to gravity, in mere moments he extended his pistol into a long-shield, letting go of it, and gasping its tip, he hooked the pistol end onto bottom the pole, which the devil bird swiftly devoured, snapping it off of its perch, Allen swung his body around on to his monsters neck.

With much deftness he grabbed Lenore's rifle once more by the stock, the monster reared up and in that instance Allen released the rifle from the devil-birds neck, hooked it onto his pistol, and brought the sharpest side of his long-shield against its neck, pulling back, pulling back with all of his strength, slowly, slowly, slowly cutting through the armored feathers until his weapons bore down on the Grimms hide.

Then finally, finally, with a mighty crack of a rifle, the Grimms head was shorn off despite its wailings, finally still, and silent and dead.

It's body fell back, as gravity resumed its hold on the scene, Allen hooked his weapon on the last outcrop of the flagpole as the nameless Grimm fell upon the terrace, and from their tumbled along the walls of Fort Pallas and down into the dank mists of the moor.

Allen slung the rifle back on his back, and slowly climbed back into his perch atop the tallest peak, heaving for breath, his body exhausted, as his ragged hair and clothes blowing gently in the breeze. The sun finally crested enough over the mountain peaks, catching his eye, alerting him to the twilight of dawn that had settled around him without his knowing, finally laying to rest the shadows of the valley, and the Fort that rested in its lonely island in the sky.

Allen breathed at last, heartily, exhausted, the stopwatch at his heart thrumming as dawn came at last, casting its beautiful warmth on him.

And then it stopped.

Perched on the cliff peaks mountains afar, moving in the moor and the mists, soaring in the air and the sky he saw them. Their black wings of shadow flapping, their low incessant cawing, their bleached hardened masks red eyes of malice looking upon him expectantly. More and more and more and more and more and more and more and more, both Greater and Lesser, and More, a Murder full more of them.

Murder.

Murder.

Murder.

Murder.

Murder.

Murder.

Atop his lonely perch, with only the lonely silence of the howling shrieking wind left to accompany him, Allen uttered only a single word.

"Nevermore."

* * *

Live Allen. Live for me.

* * *

The school-bell rang out sharply and loudly at that moment, awakening all students from their reverie. Without needing to be prompted, they grabbed their things, and filed out of their class somewhat more somber than when they had entered.

"Well then, that seemed like quite the thrilling lesson, didn't it Doctor?" Proffessor Port boomed enthusiastically.

"Quite, quite! However, I think we may have cut it a little too closely to the bell, we shall have to rectify this in time for the next lesson tomorrow, swiftly then, after all we must ensure our students have access to all the information they need."

"Um, excuse me Professors?"

The two teachers turned to see some of their students standing with bags ready, but waiting to catch their attention. Team RWBY was assembled before them, with Weiss Schnee having flagged their attention.

"Yes Ms. Schnee? What is it? Please be quick, we must prepare for other classes, and you and your team should be off to yours so as not to be late." Dr. Oobleck stated.

"We just wanted to ask some questions about the Lesson is all." Yang Xiao-Long explained.

"All of you?" Oobleck inquired.

"It was a good lesson." Ruby Rose admitted, who had a less than stellar record in regards to note-taking and studying.

"We were wondering what happened after." Yang Xiao-Long said.

"The lecture ended after Allen E. Polter was stranded in the Wasteland surrounded by Nevermore." Blake Belladonna accurately recalled. "How did he make his way back to the Kingdoms to name it?"

"Why, by the sheer strength and cunning he possessed as a Hunter dear girls!" Professor Port blustered. "When one puts their mind to it, nothing is impossible, no odds are insurmountable!"

"Whoa!" Ruby Rose the team leader enthused.

Dr. Oobleck made a subdued cough. "Well, while that remains entirely within the world of possibilities, the fact of the matter is dear girls that we quite frankly don't know."

"We don't?" Weiss Schnee said. "Then how do we know everything else then? About how he first encountered and killed a Nevermore?"

Oobleck hesitated before adjusting his glasses and sighed. "Allen E. Polter was found on the edge of the Kingdoms, recovered by the Night Watchmen. He was found on the edge of collapse, and was rushed to the nearest hospital to be treated. He ranted and raved for days of what had happened to him, but most who recorded his words remarked that they were drivel, madness, and gibberish. It wasn't until later when a Murder of Nevermore attacked nearby that his words took on a semblance of sense. His body eventually recovered, and he registered the Grimm as a Nevermore, some said it was the only word he would utter for days. His claim wasn't contested, and the name has stuck to this day."

Dr. Oobleck straightened himself up a little, and continued. "He lived on for quite a while longer after his recovery, continuing his work as a Hunter, but he came severely withdrawn from the world, refusing to work with any partners or teams, and becoming antisocial and distant to all those around him. The best record we have, and the only one we have access to concerning his last mission with his partner Lenore aPaean were his personal memoirs that he started writing in his later years. Quite unfortunately they lay unfinished, he never wrote in it after he recounted his fight against the first Nevermore, and he tragically went missing after defending a village outpost that was tragically overrun by Grimm."

Dr. Oobleck turned his gaze back to his students. "So as previously stated girls, we quite frankly don't know what happened to Allen E. Polter between Fort Pallas and the Kingdoms. Maybe he was or was not get to be the first to slay a Nevermore. Perhaps there was or wasn't a Murder awaiting him. Some scholars propose the idea that Allen had fabricated the entire story, which remains entirely within the realm of possibility. There have been many papers written on this particular subject, some with a… less than favorable view of the events, particularly concerning Allens role in the nature of the death of his partner. If his accounts are indeed accurate, then he may have hid out in Fort Pallas until the Grimm moved on, or he may have run, hid, or fended off the Nevermore until he reached the Kingdoms. Or as my good colleague pointed out, the possibility remains-"

"That Brave Allen carved a dark and bloody swath through the Murder, refusing to let the Grimm stand between him and civilization!" Professor Port stated with a macho flair.

The good Doctor smirked at that. "But the fact remains that the uncontested truth of the matter is a mystery, perhaps one that will elude us forever."

Weiss Schnee nodded, trying to smile, the rest of her team looking rather sullen. "Thank you Professors. We should be heading to our classes now." The rest of the students made sounds of agreement, and turned to towards the door.

The two teachers shared a glance before turning back to their students. "Girls- one more moment." Professor Port requested. "I know that todays lesson may have been less than inspiring. But remember that despite everything that Allen E. Polter went through, he was still a Hunter. Despite any and all odds he never gave up. And because of that he survived through all that was thrown at him. And because of that lived to help dozens, if not hundreds more people. And I personally believe that makes it all worth it."

Dr. Oobleck nodded. "I vastly prefer of Ports interpretation of todays lesson out of those proposed by acclaimed scholars and researchers in the field."

"I should hope so Dr. Oobleck!" Proffessor Port said with a hearty chuckle.

Ruby Rose, the leader of the team smiled and nodded. "Of course. Thank you Professors! I really liked today's lesson."

And with that, the students continued their lessons, learning how to fight and slay any monsters that would seek to destroy them.

* * *

**Authors Note:**

So this took me a while to write.

I came up with this on the RT Forum, on the RWBY Discussion thread. Thanks to everyone who helped to contribute to this. We had seen the lore video on Grimm, and we wondered how they are named, and then I wondered how the Nevermore had been named. Then I came up with this.

Special thanks goes to-

LuckyBullet

Bainbow

RevanX77/Veloran

DisneyDCGirl/NameForsaken

And as I said, anyone who helped me by listening to my idea and who tried to contribute.

I hope everyone who has read this enjoyed it, I would be thrilled to hear what you think.


End file.
